


All Good Things

by Seascribe



Category: The Eagle | Eagle of the Ninth (2011)
Genre: Canon-Era, Impact Play, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-31
Updated: 2012-03-31
Packaged: 2017-11-02 19:30:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/372569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seascribe/pseuds/Seascribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is a new riding crop hanging unused in the stables. Esca waits for Marcus to ask for what he wants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Good Things

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a gift for Pouxin in the first round of The Eagle Exchange. Big thanks to Sistermine for the beta.

Esca barely notices the new crop that Marcus has hung up in the stables, not at first. It is only when it has hung there, untouched, for several days that he begins to wonder what Marcus is playing at. It is just like any of the others, and Esca does not see why it should remain untouched. 

Something tells Esca that if he asks, he will not get the true answer. So he waits until Marcus is in the stables with him, readying to begin training the new colt to saddle, before picking up the new crop, glancing at Marcus from the corner of his eye. Marcus' eyes have gone wide and shocked, and when Esca gives the crop an experimental flick, making it swish through the air, Marcus sucks in a shuddering breath, his entire body trembling as though he is about to be broken to saddle, and not the colt waiting placidly to be lead out into the yard. 

Oh. _Oh._ That is the last thing Esca had been expecting. Well, if that is what Marcus wants, then Esca would be glad to do it, but he knows better than to try to suggest it, even in passing. Marcus will only take fright and bolt, afraid of shaming himself. No, Esca will have to be canny and wait until Marcus' desire and his trust win out over his fear. Esca swishes the whip again before hanging it up and choosing another to use with the new colt. 

*  
"Esca, I'm ready, that is enough--ah, do it!" Marcus is on his hands and knees before Esca on their bed, worked slick and open, his voice cracking with desperation. This, too, he had been ashamed to do, at the beginning, but he has come a very long way since the first time Esca knelt and offered to use his mouth, and he will go further still. Esca needs only be patient. Meanwhile, this is something that Marcus loves, and Esca loves to give in to him, all the more after drawing it out a little.

" _Please_ ," Marcus whines, trying to push back against the light touch of Esca's thumb. Without quite planning to do it, Esca swats at the curve of his arse, not very hard, but it makes a startlingly loud sound and the skin flushes pink. Marcus makes a hoarse, broken sound and sinks down onto his elbows. 

Delighted by this reaction, Esca immediately gives in, all thoughts of teasing forgotten. Marcus moans and babbles, pushing up onto his hands again to grind back against Esca, and all Esca can think of until he comes is the print of his hand stark on Marcus' skin and how very little it would take to make Marcus come undone. 

*  
Esca thinks of it often, in the days afterward, but he does not strike Marcus again, even playfully. If they are ever to get anywhere, it is in Esca's heart that Marcus must come round to trusting Esca enough to ask for what he wants. He will get there, in his own good time.

It is past the second market day since Esca first noticed the new riding crop when Marcus looks up from the bridle he is mending, opening his mouth as though to speak. But he closes it again, and looks back to his task, his eyes flickering occasionally to the crop hanging on the wall. Esca pretends not to notice. 

"There is something that is in my heart to ask you," Marcus says at last, all in a rush. Esca looks up at him, trying to keep his face blank. 

"Go on, then," he prompts, when it seems Marcus' throat has closed up on the rest of what he wants to say. 

"Would you think less of me--" Marcus clears his throat, and then looks up, straight into Esca's eyes. It takes an obvious effort. "Name of Light, Esca, I know you have some idea what it is I want, will you force me to say it?" The muscles in his jaw clench and tremble. "Very well. I would--like it, if you would hit me." 

"You could not want anything that would make me think less of you," Esca says, coming to stand in between Marcus' knees. He gives Marcus a kiss, his stomach warm and fluttering with proud affection. "I would be happy to do that, if it is what you want." 

Marcus nods. "I--yes. Please."

Since he has asked so nicely, Esca has no intention of keeping him waiting. Marcus looks a little startled when Esca strides over to take down the riding crop, swishing it experimentally.

"Would you be more comfortable here or in the house?" Esca asks. His fingers are tingling with the urge to strip Marcus out of his braccae right here and bend him over the worktable, striping his arse pink and white with the riding crop, but he takes a deep breath and waits for Marcus' answer. 

"Here, I think," Marcus says, and braces his hands on the table, unbidden. Esca regrets that he won't be able to see the marks left on Marcus' skin, but there will be time for that later. 

Marcus sucks in a sharp breath when the first blow lands, his legs trembling. Esca waits for a moment, but Marcus does not tell him to stop. The second blow lands harder, and Marcus rocks forward with a grunt. Esca strikes him again, a third, fourth, and fifth time, and Marcus' head drops down to hang between his shoulders, his breath coming in shallow, quick gasps. 

"A--a moment, Esca," he grits. Esca cups his hand around the back of Marcus' neck, thumb rubbing gentle circles beneath his ear

"We do not have to continue," Esca says. 

"No," Marcus says. "No, I do not--dislike it. But I had imagined..." He shrugs, tilting his head to look up at Esca, his eyes dark and pleading. "It is not like I had imagined. I cannot explain it." 

Esca is hard in his braccae, his heart pounding, and he wants to hear Marcus make that noise again, the broken, needing noise he had made when Esca struck him in their bed, wants to make this as good for Marcus as he had imagined it. He licks his lips.

"What do you want me to do?" 

Marcus is blushing. "Can we try it again? Perhaps not so fast?" 

Esca pushes up the hem of his tunic, trailing wet, open kisses up the line of his back. Marcus wriggles free of the garment, tugging it over his head, and Esca licks the freckles dusted over his shoulders, drawing swirling patterns between them. Marcus sighs, arching his back, and Esca cups the curve of his arse in one hand, his fingers digging into the firm flesh beneath the cloth of his braccae.

This time, Esca switches across the tops of Marcus' thighs, not as hard as he had done before, but the crop still makes a solid sound when it meets Marcus' body. The blood rushes urgently in Esca's ears, but he forces himself to go slowly, waiting for Marcus' shaky exhale before letting the crop cut into Marcus' arse. 

Still, though, he can tell there is something not quite right with it. He stops before Marcus can ask him to and steps closer, sliding his hand beneath Marcus' braccae, his fingers curling round Marcus' hip. 

"Let's have these off," Esca says, easing the braccae down. "Here, shall I try again using my hand?"

Marcus straightens to kick off his sandals and braccae, his cheeks flushed pink. Esca stretches up on tiptoe to kiss him, pressing close enough that Marcus' full cock nudges against his hip. 

"Why are you blushing?" Esca says, pinching his arse. "It's nothing I've not seen before."

Marcus blushes harder at that, but he bends over the table again. Esca could admire him for hours like this, could spend an entire day worshipping every inch of skin, every scar and freckle. But it will have to be another time; Marcus' leg is beginning to tremble in earnest now, from the strain of holding this position. 

The first blow of Esca's palm sounds shockingly loud, after the quiet swish and thwack of the slender crop. Esca waits until the white outline of his fingers has faded to a gentle pink and then smacks him again. Marcus whimpers and spreads his legs a little wider to brace himself. 

"Is that good?" Esca breathes. 

"Keep doing it," Marcus begs.

This time, Esca puts more of his strength behind the blow, and it is exactly right; Marcus shudders and the noise he makes goes straight to Esca's cock. 

Esca hits Marcus with the flat of his palm until both arsecheeks are pink with the impact and his hand is tingling and sore. In the space between blows, Marcus moans and cries out; deep, raw noises that make Esca's heart clench. When at last Marcus sinks down, burying his face against his forearms and going quiet except for his panting breath, Esca stops. 

"All right?" he asks, smoothing his hand over Marcus' back. 

Marcus takes an unsteady, hiccuping breath. "Yes. Esca, that was--I am--"

"Shhh," Esca says, and bends down to kiss the hot, abused flesh. Marcus gasps, pushing back against him, and Esca smiles. "All right, my impatient one. Come here." He pulls Marcus up for a kiss, reaching down to strip lazily at his cock. 

Marcus hums contentedly, pushing Esca's braccae down his thighs and pulling him in with a hand wrapped around his hip. Esca braces his other hand on the table behind Marcus, pushing up just a little on his toes so that they are pressed together, hot and slick between their bellies, stealing sweet, open kisses from Marcus' lips as they move together.

Marcus tilts his head back, so close already, and Esca scrapes his teeth along the tendon standing out in his neck, trails his lips over the pulse fluttering wildly beneath the skin. Here, with Marcus trembling on the edge of coming undone, Esca wants-- _aches_ \--to give him every good thing, to take perfect care of him and never let him want for aught. It is a feeling he is familiar with, by now, and it no longer comes accompanied by a rush of terror. 

"You were so beautiful," he says, because it is true and because he can, "bent over for me, so trusting." Marcus hides his face in Esca's shoulder, but he likes to hear such things, Esca knows. And so he continues, telling Marcus exactly how he had looked and sounded, showering him with the sweet words and endearments that he would never, ever say if they were not half out of their minds with pleasure, loose-limbed and drained from everything that had come before. 

Marcus sighs and groans against his skin, and then spills slick in the space between them. He turns a brilliant smile on Esca, afterwards, his eyes impossibly green and joyful, and Esca tries desperately to keep his eyes open as he comes undone, hating to miss a moment of that shining look.

When he opens his eyes again, Marcus' smile has faded to something sweet and sated, and Esca tucks his head beneath Marcus' chin. 

"Next time," he says, when his breathing has steadied. "I want to lay you down in our bed, after, and work you open, fuck you through the mattress while you're still red and sore."

" _Roma dea_ ," Marcus mutters, but Esca can tell without looking up that he is smiling.


End file.
